Of Silence in Dreams
by R. H. Jones
Summary: Not all was supposed to happen the way that it did. I was not supposed to become self aware.


She was walking. Making her way slowly through a familiar scene, a shimmering forest that seemed completely alien though she knew it so well. The girl dodged easily under low gnarled branches and glitter-dusted spider webs, absently running her fingers across her forearm and fixing her unfocused gaze ahead in muted anticipation of finding what she knew was waiting for her.

The wood was eerily silent, but she paid little attention to that fact. That was the way it always was. There was no soft wind rustling through the leaves of the dense foliage, no sign of the life that should have inhabited the undergrowth. Just the girl, walking lightly with a distant look of contentment on her face.

She looked up, stretching her neck to stare at the starless sky. She noted, mildly interested, that this was taking a bit longer than usual. Something was different today. There was a slight shift to the air, a subtle change in the lighting and the spring in the dirt.

Lowering her head back to the path, the girl continued on her walk, stepping over the moss encrusted stones and uplifted tree roots. She stopped suddenly, spotting a figure leaning against a tree directly in front of her. She stared at him for a moment before tilting her head in silent acknowledgement, watching as he returned the gesture. He came swiftly forward, taking the few steps to close the gap between them. They walked together in silence, following each other simultaneously, with no destination to speak of.

In one instant, she was turned slightly from him, looking through the walled greenery for nothing specific. The next moment she felt a slight pull on her hand, and looked down to notice that he had placed his inside of it, and was wrapping his fingers around hers with an odd look on his face. She furrowed her brow in confusion, this most certainly _was_ different, he had never touched her before. She paused. His hand felt so strange. Leather encased fingers felt insubstantial, as though the pressure on her skin was only _almost_ solid. She could feel the presence of his hand, the warmth beneath his glove, but it was more like a thick fog than flesh. She opened her mouth to voice her question, but found that when she spoke she could not hear her own words. He shook his head apologetically, seeming to know what she wished to ask but unable to communicate an answer.

He stepped hesitantly closer to her, as though she might shove him aside at any moment. His free hand reached up slowly to gently touch her cheek, lightly tickling her skin like the brush of a feather. She leaned into his touch, still stunned with her confusion at this abrupt change in behavior. He shook his head again and leaned down, brushing his lips ever so softly onto hers. She had just enough time to see the pained expression on his face turn to a blank stare before the world that surrounded her slowly faded to darkness and she was sucked into the familiar oblivion of dreamless sleep.

----

Sarah woke with a start, her hand flying to her cheek where the phantom sensation of a hand brushing it still left a tingle on her skin. The room was slightly illuminated with the faint glow of the sky before the sunrise, grey light seeping into the shadows on the walls. She glanced at her bedside clock, not quite five yet.

There was no chance that she would be getting back to sleep now. Sarah rolled out of bed and made her way slowly down the hallway, past her room mate's door and into the bathroom. She was twenty-two now, attending the local university and majoring in English Literature. Her room mate, Alex, was a shorter girl with shoulder length blonde hair who had a great love for a good party, but was fairly neat and quiet for the majority of the time.

Sarah stripped quickly, letting the water run hot while she removed her clothes. Stepping into the stall, she tried to clear her thoughts while she breathed in the steam emanating from the shower head. Her dreams had always been startlingly vivid; sometimes so much that she had trouble distinguishing them from reality. Especially her dreams of _him._ At first she thought it strange that she should dream of the villain from her venture to the Underground, but then, thinking on it more, she supposed it wasn't so. She was fascinated with him, he was different than the others she had met. Unique. Not only was he the only one to resemble anything human, but he seemed a bit more aware of what was happening than the rest of them. They had some kind of special connection, outside of the game, because he knew her, and she him, even if only through her story. Besides, he _was_ a very attractive man. No, it wasn't so strange.

The dreams had started immediately after her trip. She would go to sleep and walk through the forest, and he would be there eventually, waiting for her. They never spoke, nor did they touch, until last night. At first she would see him every other week, then once or twice a week, andthen almost every night. She hadn't had a night without his silent companionship now for the better part of three years. They became much more realistic, too. The lines of the trees were sharper, the mustiness of the atmosphere became thicker and thicker until she felt like she was inside a greenhouse, instead of the total lack of feeling the air had when they started. Subtle detailschanged, but no matter how firm the ground under her was or how solid a tree seemed beneath her hand, the only communication or contact Sarah and heshared was a nod in the direction that they wanted to go or a small gesture of greeting upon finding each other.

What was different today, that he would reach out and touch her?

Sarah supposed that it wasn't so important. After all, it was only a dream.

As the water started to cool on her back, Sarah turned the stream off and stepped out of the shower and into a soft towel. She combed out her hair and padded back to her room, listening to the distant sounds of the world waking up outside of the apartment.

The next few weeks passed without anything incredible happening, though in her dreams they now walked hand in hand. He didn't kiss her again, nor did he make a move or initiate any contact beyond holding her hand in his, but he seemed happier for of it. His usual vacant look was replaced by a faint smile and he seemed to walk with more enthusiasm. Sarah would smile and shake her head when he grabbed forher hand, but she let him, and she squeezed it when he did so, noting with every passing day as the density of his body seemed to increase slightly. How the leather of his gloves felt softer, smoother, more _there._

Then, one night, as they strolled through the forest, he stopped her. He took both of her hands in his, rubbing slow and deliberate circles into her palms while she looked at him questioningly. Then, to her surprise, he took off one of his gloves. She watched him as he placed his hand in hers, palm to palm, and watched her, eyes silently begging her to react. She shook her head, not understanding, and he pressed his palm more firmly down, tightly clamping the back of her hand so that his warmth seeped through her skin. She could feel his quickened pulse on her fingertips, his entire body trembling slightly with the frustration of not being able to communicate what he wished to her.

She watched all of this, regretfully uncomprehending. He sighed deeply, but inaudibly, and placed her hand against his chest to feel his wildly thumping heartbeat in a last attempt at conveyance. She shook her head again, and he looked down, seemingly discouraged, and took her hand from his chest to hold it again in front of his stomach. Suddenly, he lifted his eyes back to her face with a new determination. While their stares were fixed on each other, she felt a sharp pain on the palm that he held, and looked down quickly to find a short gash trickling blood down the middle of her hand and onto her fingers. Her head snapped up, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He bit his lip and looked at her apologetically as he cupped her wound in his own hand and brought the back of her knuckles against his cheek. He closed his eyes, lips pressed tight and curled down, and breathed deeply as the world around her faded.

----

Sarah woke in a daze, confusion of the dream still fresh in her mind. Why would he do something like that? What was he trying to say to her? She ran a shaking hand over her cheek and winced at a small stab of pain. Lowering her arm slowly, Sarah stared, disbelieving, at a small fresh cut on her right palm.

Alex was in the kitchen making breakfast when Sarah came out of her room and down the hallway. The shorter girl greeted her with a plate in her hand and a smile on her face that faded quickly when she saw her roommate's worried expression.

"Hey, Sarah. I made eggs and French toast...Are you okay? You look pale."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. I guess I just had a weird dream." Sarah attempted a smile, which turned into a contemplative frown.

"Alright," she said, looking at her skeptically. "Well, here's breakfast, anyway. Whoa," Alex grabbed Sarah's hand when she reached for her plate, "Where did you get that nasty little thing?"

Staring at the wound that her friend was now inspecting, Sarah wasn't quite sure how to explain. "I don't really know. I woke up with it. Must have scraped my hand in my sleep." True enough. But she did know. Even if she hadn't quite decided yet if she believed it.

The dark haired girl sat at the table, poking at her French toast thoughtfully. She found herself constantly arguing with her own mind, thoughts of denial and acceptance battling for the right to settle in. It was a dream. _He_ was a dream. But then, it was so real, and not everything is as it seems. Was this possible, to be in the physical presence of the Goblin King as she slept? No, it wasn't. But that brought up another question, and she found herself contemplating the nature of another dream. A hallucination brought on by a drugged peach, meant to distract her and make her forget what she had set out to do.

She had never really thought about it, and now she supposed she had no way of knowing if that was her own creation or if he had deliberately put her there to dance with him. It would make sense to her if at the time she dreamed of him, the man was as alluring as he was frightening. He had a dangerous spark that had terrified her, partly because of her own want to know more.

Sarah stood, bringing her not quite half-empty plate back to the kitchen, and sighed. She had made a decision. Whether anything would come of it or not, she had to speak to him. Now she just needed to find out how.

She supposed that calling the Goblin King while she was awake wouldn't be the best idea just yet, after all, if this was only her dream, what would _he_ do? What _could_ he do? More than likely laugh, with that damned infuriating smug smile on his face, that after these seven years between meetings she was having dreams of him. That was, if he came at all.

Unless that was what he wanted her to know, what he was trying to tell her? That it was him?

Well, she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

The day passed with agonizing slowness as Sarah counted hours until classes were through and the evening rolled in with dusty pink purple promises of nightfall. She lay down in her bed, eyes closed, and waited motionlessfor sleep to come. Hours passed, and rest slowly crept in while she forced herself to calm the nervous twisting of her stomach.

Slowly, the familiar forest came into view, and she began her walk.

The trees around her, the soil beneath her feet and the air itself seemed to hum with her every step.The girl felt as though the wood was alive with her own anticipation as she moved forward with grim determination. She brushed her fingers lightly along the surface of stumps and branches as she passed them, marveling at the rich textures that left damp smudges of fragrant residue on her hands. Breathing deeply left her a bit light headed, the air was dense with the earthy smell of decaying leaves and new things growing.

Her eyes flicked distractedly over the scenery before stopping to gaze at the man staring back at her from his place against a thick tree. He waited stoically for her acknowledgement with his eyes locked on hers, so still she thought thathe must be holding his breath. The girl nodded slowly in his direction as she turned to face him head on, stopping all movement upon raising her head. The man didn't return his usual greeting, but stepped forward quickly, clutching her upper arms at once with a firm grip.

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither one moving, before he broke his gaze to look around them with almost panicked movements, still never releasing his hold on her arms. The man looked at her then, a hint of hysteria playing at his features. He shook her once, and through the silence that forever enveloped the plane, a single thought came to her as though through thick glass, muffled and faint, though unmistakable.

_Say my name._

It came directly from him. Not quite a sound, but a deep vibrating thing, almost pliable around her. Then, again.

_Say my name. Call to me._

He released her, falling down to the ground on his knees. She knelt next to him, and lifted his chin. His sharp features were contorted with discomfort and his eyes were squeezed tightly closed. He looked utterly exhausted, she thought, and just as she brushed a stray hair from his face, the world faded to black.

----

The next day was strange in that time seemed to move too fast and too slow at the same time for Sarah. By the time evening fell, she had resolved to summon him. Things may not turn out for the better, but she decided that her sanity called for it.

She sat in her room, nervously wringing her hands together.

_Say my name._

"I wish..." No. She wasn't wishing someone away. Nor was she calling him as the Goblin King.

_Say my name._

Sarah cleared her throat, and let out a deep breath.

"Jareth," she breathed, and went completely still as she waited for a response. The room was empty and quiet, and in an instant, the light flickered and suddenly, she wasn't alone.

He appeared at once, blinking into existence with the return of the light. A look of abject joy crossed his face before he stumbled backwards, catching himself on the edge of her dresser to keep upright. Sarah automatically flew to his side, propping him up with an arm as he steadied himself.

He found a nearby chair and sat, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. Sarah watched him, unsure of what to do and concerned at his apparent struggle. They stayed like that for a few long minutes before, much to Sarah's surprise, he gave a sudden, deep, genuine laugh full of relief and it ended with a long sigh of contentment.

She looked at him, and backed away to sit on her bed. When he finally opened his eyes and turned to her, face full of barely contained mirth, he said simply, "Thank you."

"For what, exactly?" She spoke quietly, cautiously, looking him over with a suspicious eye.

"For giving me a life of my own."

Her brow furrowed in confusion, "What do you mean?"

He smiled at her then. "I didn't quite know if I would ever be this alive."

"I...I don't understand."

"No, I suppose I wouldn't expect you to. I'll do my best to explain." Sarah tucked her legs underneath her, watching as his face turned thoughtful. "What you know of me, and what you perceive as my world, is not entirely correct. That is to say, that it is not entirely incorrect, either." He paused for a long while. "I don't suspect that I could define it either way." Another long pause. "The Labyrinth, as you know it, was a product of your own mind."

Jareth stopped at the look of horror on her face, "I couldn't have dreamed it all! It was so real, and you're here, aren't you? How could-"

"Sarah, I never said it wasn't real. Dreams are powerful things, not to be taken as lightly as some do." She quieted, still very uneasy, and he continued. "I cannot explain the process, nor do I know how I somehow broke from it, but I do know that at some point, your dreams became strong enough to manifest themselves with physical form. Your desire for adventure was so great that your mind gave you a whole world to sate that desire.

"Part of it was the need to grow and mature as a person, and your subconscious finding a way, even if it was extreme, to coax that part of yourself to the surface. I believe that whether you were aware of it or not, you grew tired of being a child, lost in selfishness and petty things. Experiencing the Labyrinth and being the unselfish heroine helped you to realize that goal, did it not?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes."

"And, you needed desperately to fulfill a childhood dream before you could let go of that part of yourself. Everything in the Underground was a piece of you or your wants. Your three companions all had their own purpose, helped you discover something in one way or another. And then, there was me. Or rather, the Goblin King."

"There's a difference?" She spoke quietly now, barely above a whisper.

"Oh, yes. There is quiet a difference." She stared at him expectantly, and Jareth sighed again. "The Goblin King was many things. First and foremost, he was your adversary. The obstacle in your path. But, more than that, he was temptation. The seductive side of your villain was the girl in you looking to be a woman. He was your need for a male to your female, though not all was supposed to happen the way that it did." He stopped once more, his face carefully blank.

"Why not?"

He looked up then, "Because I was not supposed to become self aware."

Sarah shook her head, "Self aware?" He nodded, and she furrowed her brow in confusion.

Jareth closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking down at the floor as he continued, "In the beginning, I was the Goblin King, moving along in the only way I knew how. As the game progressed, I felt more and more uneasy, unable to understand why it felt so _wrong._ There were no memories, no free thoughts as I knew. I _knew_ somehow that there should be. I knew what I was doing, yet I couldn't figure out why I was doing it. And then, slowly, I began to break away. The realization came that somehow, I was not this person called the Goblin King. I didn't _want_ to be, but more so, I just knew that I _wasn't._" He looked at her then, expression far away with the memory. "It was like we were two separate entities, yet still one and the same. I was able to feel things that he was not. His mind was set on a path, a script of feelings and words, yet they _were_ my own. Somehow, I stepped off of the path. While I could not completely escape being the Goblin King, I changed him. Changed his character." Jareth looked closely at her. "He was not supposed to love you, Sarah."

She stared at him dumbly, so he continued. "At first, I was confused. I was not fully aware of myself, yet I was preoccupied with you. I knew of you what _he_ knew of you, but I didn't quite understand how to process the information with my new thoughts. I found myself drawn to you, because you were different. You were not a puppet. The only real thing that I had known in my short time.

"And then it ended. You were sent home, a better person for it, fantastical dreams lived out. The Labyrinth and every inhabitant were thrown into oblivion. Every piece of that world wiped away as though it had never been, save one thing. The part of me that broke away, stepped from the path. It was not a part of your dream, and as such, was left behind. This small piece of me was something entirely new, and there was no place for it, though it did exist, so it could not disappear like everything else. It's a very strange feeling, Sarah, being on the brink of non-existence."

"I can only speculate how I ended up in your dreams, possibly because it was all I knew. I was glad for it, though. Slowly, my thoughts became clearer and my physical form, well, as physical as one can be in a dream, solidified. I developed my own sense of self, became a whole mind. And as we walked together, all these years, I found I still loved you."

"I had steadily been growing stronger. I thought that maybe, if I could convince you that I was real within your dreams, and you called me out of them, I might have enough substance to exist outside, in your world. I only thank the powers that be that you said my name and not called on the Goblin King, or I might have had to start all over again. The name is the only thing I claim of him. It was never really his to begin with. After all, I suppose I am Jareth, the man behind the shell of a king..." He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I told you, Sarah, and it was _me_ who said it," He smiled, "I can't live within you."

Sarah stared at him quietly, eyes searching his face.

"I'm exhausted," He said with a shaky laugh. "Taking new physical form such as I have seems to leave you with little strength." His face dropped slightly. "I'm not sure what to do now. I suppose I hadn't thought much past this moment."

He did look very tired. His face was pale and gaunt, purple shadows under his eyes and translucent skin making him look half dead. "Well," Sarah spoke softly, "then let's just go to sleep. I'm sure we can figure it out in the morning."

"You would let me sleep beside you?"

"Yes," She said simply, pulling back the bedcovers and climbing under.

He smiled before walking to the bed and settling down, eyes already half closed.

"Good night, Jareth."

"Good night, Sarah."

The pale light of the moon drifted across the bed, faintly illuminating the two figures, breathing softly in peaceful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

I reloaded this because I think I neglected to mention that this was indeed meant to be a oneshot. A sequel has been discussed, but at this point I don't know if I'll ever act on that, and if I do, when. -shrug-

Reloaded _again_ for the sake of more editing and improvement.


End file.
